


break

by Pterodactyl



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Surrender fic, amélie hands herself in
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:18:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9323270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pterodactyl/pseuds/Pterodactyl
Summary: lena and emily get a surprise visit from widowmaker.





	

Lena is elbow deep in soapy water when her phone starts buzzing.

“Oh, bloody hell,” she grumbles, dropping the pan she’s scrubbing and searching around the kitchen for a tea towel, “Where are the - Em, love, where are the tea towels?”

Her girlfriend looks up from where she’s sat at the table. “The - oh. Sorry, Len, I chucked them all in the wash, they’re drying on the balcony.”

Lena gives up and wipes her hands on the front of her shirt, finally seizing her phone off the counter. It’s an alert from her secure not-Overwatch- _ wink-wink _ account that she has an urgent message waiting from Winston.

“Who is it?” Emily asks, getting up to take over the washing up. Lena reaches out a hand to stop her, trying to open the link in the email with wet fingers. “It’s Winston - don’t, I’ll finish it in second, I just have to… remember my password.”

“You don’t know the password for your official Overwatch account?” Em raises an eyebrow.

Lena grins sheepishly. “I usually just get the cliff’s notes for meetings off of Fareeha.”

“Does Winston know you’re doing that?” Emily rolls up her sleeves, “I feel like he wouldn’t be happy about it.”

“It’s fine,” Lena gives up on trying to log in, “If it’s really important, Hana will text me about it.”

“So she’s officially been recruited?”

“Well, nothing about Overwatch is official yet, but basically? Yeah,” Lena opens her messages to see if she’s gotten anything from Hana. There’s a message from Lúcio ( _ tfw u ask a dude out and the message says read but he doesn’t answer this is my official resignation from overwatch _ ) and one from Jesse ( _ r u at gib or kr) _ but nothing from Hana.

“Here, love, I’ll finish up,” she nudges Em out of the way with her hip and plunges her hands back into the water, “Can you just reply to Jesse’s text for me?”

Emily picks up her phone. “Are you at  _ gib _ or  _ kr _ \- what is  _ krrrr? _ ”

“Gibraltar or King’s Row,” Lena laughs, “Tell him I’m home, he’s probably just bored.”

There’s potato burned onto the oven tray from Lena’s failed attempt at home-style fish and chips, and she’s busy scouring it off when her phone goes off again. Leaning over to look at it, it’s a second text from Lúcio. Swiftly followed by a third, fourth and fifth.

_ From: frog _ _   
_ _ LENA PLS REPLY IM HAVING A VERY BAD TIME _

_ From: frog _ _   
_ _ I KNOW UR NOT SUPPOSED TO DOUBLE TEXT BUT MAN, IM DYING RN _

_ From: frog _ _   
_ _ this is it, i swear to god, im gonna leave overwatch so i never have to look genji in the eye ever ever ever again _

She looks for a tea towel, remembers they’re all on the balcony. “Em, could you grab one of the towels? They’re probably dry now, right?”

“Probably,” Em kisses Lena’s cheek on her way past, “What’s wrong?”

“Lúcio asked Genji out but Genji hasn’t replied,” Lena holds her hands over the sink so they don’t drip water all over the floor, “I bet he’s just meditating and hasn’t seen the text, the time difference keeps fucking up what I send to him.”

“Len?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s only a couple hours, but I still -”

“ _ Lena _ .”

Something in the tone of Emily’s voice makes Lena freeze in the middle of shaking soap suds off her fingers. She looks over her shoulder, sees her girlfriend standing in front of the doors to the balcony and - on the other side of the glass, close enough for Lena to be able to see the  _ W _ on her shoulder - stands Widowmaker.

Lena is not ready for this.

She’s barefoot in her kitchen with her accelerator across the room and her pulse pistols somewhere under the bed. The closest thing to a weapon she has is one of their blunt kitchen knives and a stool below the breakfast bar, nothing useful to take on an assassin.

She can’t see a gun, but that doesn’t mean anything. Without blink, she can’t move anywhere near fast enough to avoid Widow, and it’d only take one misstep for her to end up with a broken neck and no recall to save her. Panic fills her, and she looks swiftly between Widowmaker, Emily, and the table where her accelerator lies.

She’s not close enough to save both. She either runs for the accelerator and leaves Emily vulnerable or goes without it and gives Em cover to get out of the room. And really, that’s not even a question worth thinking about.

Lena vaults the counter, but her still-wet hands slip and she hits her hip hard, staggers the rest of the distance across the room and shoves Em  _ hard _ towards the door to the hallway. “Go!” she yells, “Run, Em,  _ go! _ ”

She turns to face Widowmaker, arms up in what she can remember of the self defence lessons Gabriel gave her. If the assassin wants to get to Em, she’s going to have to go through Lena.

Widowmaker opens the door.

Lena’s heart is going a mile a minute, all she can hear is the roaring of her own breath in her ears. As Widow steps through the door, she wonders if she can make it back over the sofa and grab her accelerator.

Lena forces a cocky smile. “Come here often, love?”

Widowmaker’s visor snaps back, and Lena sees her golden eyes narrow. “I am not here to fight you.”

“Find that a bit hard to believe, honestly,” Lena takes the smallest of steps towards the table holding her accelerator, “Didn’t your mum ever teach you not to tell lies?”

Widow’s hands curl into fists, and she says something in low, rolling French. Lena grits her teeth. “Didn’t quite catch that one.”

“I  _ said _ -” Widowmaker visibly holds herself back, “Do you not recognise me?”

Lena feels a pit gather in her stomach. There is an edge of desperation in Widow’s voice, as if she doesn’t quite know what she wants Lena’s answer to be.

_ Do you not recognise me? _

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Lena brushes her hesitation aside, “You tried to kill me -”

“Tracer.  _ Please _ .”

Her call sign coming out of Widowmaker’s mouth strikes Lena dumb. Her hands fall to her sides, and she stares open-mouthed at the figure before her. Widowmaker holds her hands out, palms up, her eyes  _ pleading _ Lena. “Please.”

The name escapes Lena’s lips before she can stop it. “Amélie?”

It’s as if Widowmaker falls away, is shed like an exoskeleton. Her shoulders slump, and she staggers sideways, crumples against the wall. Trembling fingers remove her visor, revealing strands of her dark hair plastered to her forehead. She looks at up, and utters a single word.

“ _ Lena. _ ”

Lena puts a hand to her mouth, takes several steps back. It’s impossible to believe that Amélie’s conditioning has been broken just by a word, but nothing of what Lena sees reminds her of the ruthless assassin. All she sees right now is confusion and fear on the face of someone that she used to call a friend.

Lena has spent years burying any sort of positive feeling towards the woman she used to know as Amélie, spent years mentally rewriting her as  _ Widowmaker _ . Now, everything she sees is throwing those years of forced hatred out of the window.

She’s still frozen in place when the window smashes and a familiar voice bellows “ _ Lenaaaaa! _ ”

Lena leaps backwards, falls flat on her back in shock as the considerable bulk of Winston bursts through into the flat, his Tesla cannon sending sparks crawling across the walls. Simultaneously, the door behind her flies open and Emily appears, brandishing one of Lena’s pulse pistols, swiftly followed by Genji, a handful of shurikens at the ready.

“Lena!” all three of them shout, and there’s a torrent of questions -  _ are you okay, are you hurt, did she hurt you, where did she go _ -

Unable to reply, Lena points silently to the figure taking up far less space than she should, leaning heavily against the wall. Winston hefts the cannon again, and she hears the  _ chink _ of Genji beginning to slide his katana from its sheath, but Lena finally finds her voice and stops them both, sitting up.

“Wait,” she’s breathless, heart still pounding in her chest, “Wait, Winston - Genji, it’s okay, it’s okay. I - I think she’s going to let us bring her in.”

“Are you certain?” Genji sounds distrustful, and Lena gestures for him to stand down, shifting onto her knees and clearing her throat. “Are you going to?”

Amélie - Widowmaker - oh, god, Lena doesn’t know - says nothing. Her eyes are wide, staring into space, but she makes no move to contradict or confirm what Lena’s said.

“Amélie?”

Golden eyes meet hers, a world of pain hidden behind them. Lena offers out a hand. “Are you? Going to let us bring you in?”

Slowly, Amélie draws herself back up to her full height. Behind her, Lena feels Genji tense, and sees Winston’s eyes narrow. Her heart in her throat, she puts her faith in who she knows Amélie used to be, and extends her hand further, still on her knees. “Amé?”

Amélie shudders, closes her eyes, and says, “I am officially surrendering myself to Overwatch as an agent of Talon.”

Swiftly, Genji cuts in front of Lena, skirts past both of them and disappears out of the window, undoubtedly calling in reinforcements from the Kings Row base. Winston mutters something and then, surprisingly carefully, withdraws a pair of handcuffs from a compartment in his armour. “Well, then, Widow - ah… agent of Talon, I am officially taking you into custody.”

Once the cuffs are securely fastened around Amélie’s wrists, Lena is yanked onto her feet and into a hug by her girlfriend, who is shaking in her arms. “I thought you were going to die,” she whispers fiercely, “Don’t you  _ ever _ do that again, Lena Oxton.”

Lena’s legs finally give out and she lets out a shaky laugh. “Not planning on it, love.”

Winston clears his throat and says “I must admit, this is not what I was anticipating when I alerted you to Widowmaker’s presence in London. Emily’s call gave us quite the fright.”

“You called them?” Lena presses a kiss to Emily’s cheek, “Thank you.”

“As if i’m going to let you fight a Talon agent alone,” Emily leans back and inspects her face closely, “You’re not hurt?”

“Not a bit,” Lena stabilises herself on the closest piece of furniture, watches Widowmaker - no,  _ Amélie -  _ stand quietly as Winston and Genji step out to converse on the balcony that’s too small for two people and a gorilla. Emily hugs her again. “You did the right thing. Stopping them from killing her.”

Lena turns away from the woman she used to know, the woman she hopes she might be able to call a friend again, presses her face into Emily’s shoulder. “I hope so. I really, really hope so.”


End file.
